


Game Over -- KuroKen

by kyanyama



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27817408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyanyama/pseuds/kyanyama
Summary: This was a little drabble i had to kind of get out my aroace kenma headcanon and write angst because when the mood hits, angst. theres honestly little plot, not my best writing but its something until my ukatake fic is done isjdjkw
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Kudos: 12





	Game Over -- KuroKen

**Author's Note:**

> This was a little drabble i had to kind of get out my aroace kenma headcanon and write angst because when the mood hits, angst. theres honestly little plot, not my best writing but its something until my ukatake fic is done isjdjkw

_Knock, Knock_

“God damnit!”

His hair was tangled and gross, he didn’t have a shirt on, and he was lost in a game. And now he wasn’t just lost in it, but he had actually lost. He grabbed the oversized Nekoma jacket next to him and put it on, zipping it because he had nothing underneath.

_Creak_. The door opened slowly. “Ah.. Kuroo.”

“What, not happy to see me?” A boy stood at the door, not much older than the small, 5’5 boy standing in the house. They had always been good friends.

That is, up until the night before.

Kuroo always had a key to Kenma’s house. They were best friends, and Kuroo was constantly disrupting his games. That’s why he had the key, to make sure he didn’t cause Kenma to lose again. But here he was, key-less.

Why would Kuroo knock? He could easily get in with his house key.

“I was in the middle of something, you asshole.”

“Boo-hoo, pudding head. I missed your face.”

“I saw you last night, you rooster head.”

“And your point? Am I not allowed to want to see you?”

“Whatever. Well, I’m going upstairs, come if you want.”

Kuroo, of course, followed. He wanted nothing more than to watch Kenma skillfully play games.

“Hey, is that my jacket, pudding head?”

“Yeah.. You left it here last night. And I didn’t want to search for my own.”

Bleach blonde hair fell over Kenma’s face. Kuroo moved it, only to be swatted away by Kenma. His switch was his hands, Project Diva loading and nearly ready for him to press buttons to the rhythm of his favorite song.

Halfway through the song, Kenma couldn’t help but sing along.

“NO datte iu hazu ga, kyodotte YES o koe ni dasu-” He noticed eyes on him, so he stopped and continued to just play as Kuroo watched with wide eyes.

Ghost Rule, in extreme, cleared with a rating of excellent. A song with a nine star difficulty. Kuroo watched him, not surprised, but still impressed.

“Damn, pudding head, you’re pretty good at that,” Kuroo gaped.

Kenma didn’t really care. “...Thanks.”

Back to the game. Kuroo was fascinated at how Kenma’s small fingers could move that fast to switch buttons and move joysticks.

As he played, Kenma noticed hands. They were larger than his own, and muscular. And they were trailing slowly up his thigh. He paid no mind, completely ignoring Kuroo’s advances.

Until they were on his waist.

And on his chest.

And around his neck.

And then cupping his face.

Just as Kenma finished the song, warm lips touched his own. Again. Did Kuroo not learn from the night before? Did he not see that Kenma didn’t like this kind of affection? The blonde sat there, waiting for Kuroo to stop, only to find his hands trailing down again and a tongue attempting to enter his mouth.

That’s it, the line was drawn. Kenma had enough.

The sound of flesh violently meeting flesh could be heard from all the way across the house. Kuroo’s cheek was red. Kenma’s hand matched the shade.

“Key. I want your key. And I don’t want you to come back.”

“Kenma, I love you.”

“If you loved me the way I love you, you’d respect my boundaries.”

“You’ve never made them clear!”

That sentence kept playing over and over in Kenma’s head. “Never made them clear, my ass! Did I not scream at you and nearly beat the shit out of you last night? Did I not just slap you across the face for this shit?! Get the fuck out!”

And he did. Kenma tore the jacket off, shoving it in his face. “Take it, asshole. This? Game over.”


End file.
